did you say nothing?

the journey to think of nothing

is so reflective, in a genuine way,

just to simply think, as generative

and to pursue the results of nothing.

at first, there is the notion of a blank screen,

and the use of the traditional framing style,

with the effort to get no results.

to go to that place within, 

where thoughts appear

and to get nothing presenting there.

at some point, then, 

there is the awareness of a there,

a place of thought entry,

an awareness of the presence of that place,

without the normal occupancy filled.

so where within is that place?

like what makes that so?

what is this, 

as a mindful residence?

yes, now nothing is there,

but what is there, as itself!

so how does there exist within me?

what I took, for years, for granted,

now, I am incredulously curious.

for now, nothing is a something,

given that place of there 

is where nothing is.

okay, as puzzling as that is.

but then who of me serves up things,

that get placed there, 

to be observed as something of nothingness?

who is the thought-generative of me

and where do they or it reside?

do I have an undisclosed think,

who then generates thought,

that are properly placed, to realize?

I have never questioned the thought of think,

before.

that I actually have a think,

that generates thought,

that I seem to thrive on it, doing that.

yet how does the think of me functions, 

as so undisclosed?

to me, my think is almost anonymous.

I don't know much about think to start with.

it seems that think is other-worldly.

and I don't exactly know what that means.

that I have this somewhat independent part of me,

that goes out there and gets stuff,

that is either given to thought 

or thought steals it.

not sure which.

but nevertheless, it functions on its own,

sort of in service, 

to the thoughts of me

and yet no direct contact is ever gained.

I have no contact with the think of me,

except as thoughts taken to mean.

I have no idea about think

or even where within it lives and works.

think, to me, is a busy beaver 

or a beehive of activity.

yet no apparent residence 

or clue as to whom.

I know, this all started out as 

the think of nothing.

and now it is confoundingly complex, 

as thoughts go.

the thought of nothing is now that,

the think is in the void

and the void is full of everything

that thought would possibly want.

let's just say,

I went with think, 

on an excursion into the void.

and before we got anything

there we were, 

just me and the think.

I know, I am making vast assumptions  

about that part of me.

but just for introspection purposes,

let's pursue.

so I am out there in the void with think

and we are in a process that I can't define.

my know is so limited to results,

that I can't even relate to how or what

think is, quote, doing.

it's seems to have a mind speed

that I can't eventfully process.

it's in all ways, too fast for me to evidence.

I don't have a me that can translate. 

at best, it's magical,

maybe a thousand frames of process per second

and I am there senselessly observing.

nothing even presents as dimensions apparent.

and yet appearances are made,

as thought gets dosed

and a normal reality context is embraced.

whatever it is there,

I would like to be a consciousness that goes there.

forget time, space and occupancy,

I would like to be in the presence of nothing

and not living the life

of feeding thought.

and this was supposedly,

the journey to think of nothing!

and now I long for 

a permanent conscious residence,

there . . .